


Secondary

by PhantomWriter



Series: In All the Right Ways [SamWena Week April 2020] [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Resurrection, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23554192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWriter/pseuds/PhantomWriter
Summary: Selfishness would always be an integral part of Rowena, which was why she couldn't care less if she had to take Sam away from Death's grasp herself.For Samwena Week Day 3: Magic or Lore
Relationships: Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester
Series: In All the Right Ways [SamWena Week April 2020] [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697872
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28
Collections: Samwena Week





	Secondary

**Author's Note:**

> To whom it may concern, I hope this fits under the category of Magic.

He was not breathing. 

Sam was no longer breathing. 

Rowena bit back against the sharp stab of pain that seized her with the discovery. She didn’t even know she could feel this as a damned soul and wasn’t it ironic that this was how she found out? 

It was a gnawing pit that she felt in her chest, and it had been so _long_ that she almost forgot how it could eat her from within. 

This was why she learned to be callous in the first place, why she knew how to bury foolish emotions, why she put herself above all and damn the rest. 

This was why she hadn’t cared.

She had it steady for centuries, cheating others and viciously tearing anyone in her way. She was in a continuous search of decadence, of that power that she thought would help her rise among these weak, lowly beings. 

And then the realization came to her like a harsh slap in the face: she never wanted those. She thought she did, or at least made herself had that mindset to make it easier to justify all that blood on her hands. 

Funny that it meant, deep down, what she believed all she deserved was these meaningless, hollow, and fleeting things. 

What she wanted now was something else that could never be bought or obtained by magic, for all that she has of it. 

Rowena sucked a deep breath, steeled herself, and set to work. She was far away from the proper altar but the table should be enough. 

She extended poor Oskar’s life before and had managed to bring herself back to life over and over—the key to reviving Sam should be somewhere along the lines. It was a new workaround that she was looking for, but this should be familiar enough for her to perform the right spell. 

_“Sentio, in terra, in ventum sentio,”_ she began, pulling at the roots of her magic that surged from within her chest. _“Sentio in animo ego dabo gratis. Huic exi dimidia parte.”_

“Stop.”

Rowena stood rigid, turning to the commanding voice with fury. 

Billie, with her usual air of placidity and general authority, bore a hint of warning with her. “Rowena,” Death spoke once more. 

“I don’t recall asking for an audience,” Rowena sneered. “Go and let me be.”

“I am exactly where I should be,” Billie said. Her eyes flickered to where Sam’s lifeless body was. “Sam Winchester is dead, and it’s his time to be permanently fetched. No take-backs this time.”

“No,” Rowena said firmly. “You’ve taken my son already. Why should I give you Sam as well?” 

Billie was unfazed when she cocked her head. “But they never belonged to you in the first place, Rowena,” she pointed out, scathingly indifferent. “You know how it is. You were close to messing with the grand scheme before. I think you know the consequences should you try and do so again.”

Rowena remembered that disastrous debacle, and to think that she wasn’t repeating history. 

She discovered then a part of her that was hidden under the rubbles of her failure as a mother to her child, under all that hate she thought she only had for her unwanted son—she loved him, maybe not comparable to the kind of love that Fergus expected of her as a child, but she loved him. 

She who claimed that it was a weakness and brought her nothing but suffering turned out to hold that semblance of affection for her son. It was too late, of course, and she paid for it with regret. 

Rowena glanced at Sam. He looked so peaceful already like he was merely asleep, and for once, there were no lines on his face from worry. He deserved nothing but the tranquility in his piece of neverending paradise in Heaven where he would surely go after. 

Sam never claimed to be flawless and without blood in his own hands, and yet he was able to change her into someone who yearned for redemption in his eyes. 

The thing was, it was the selfishness that he could never erase from her. She wouldn’t be Rowena MacLeod if selfishness wasn’t an integral part of her. 

Her hand crept over to touch Sam’s rapidly cooling face. “I know,” she said in reply to Billie’s warning. 

It wasn’t surprising when Rowena figured that she couldn’t care less if she had to take Sam away from Death’s grasp herself. 

_“Ligabis ad eum et animam meam pro eo.”_

* * *

Rowena was never the first choice. 

It started when she was born, when her father told her that he would rather have her mother instead of her. He’d rather have a living wife and a dead child, and Rowena had been too young then to comprehend fully the hate. 

Roderick had the choice to stay with her and their son, his only son; he did not, of course. He chose his grand life with his grand wife and grand family. His abandonment only fueled the bitterness that she grew up with. 

The Grand Coven chose Olivette over her despite the jarring difference on their level of magic, and once Olivette ascended as the High Priestess of the coven, it was her word against Rowena’s. Next thing Rowena knew, she was banished and half of her powers sealed. She had made the conclusion that she didn’t belong anywhere together with her kind. 

And when she did finally find her place centuries later, God decided to flip the table and Rowena’s home was forced to take arms against him. It boiled down to a choice one more between her and the world, and if it was a good man that was required to make the decision, would it be so surprising that he would readily choose the side of many? 

Except Sam didn’t readily make the choice as expected. He broke down in front of her, and Rowena had to egg him on to kill her for the greater good. Dean was an excellent reminder for Sam that he pushed the knife into her in the next minute. 

Sam grieved for her, and Rowena felt that she was actually important enough for him to mull over a do-or-die decision where the other end of the scale was the fate of the world. 

They met again without the tense situation, and Sam, to her bemusement, was clearly carrying a deep-seated regret that was practically rolling off his broad shoulders. As much as Rowena wanted to pull him aside properly to assuage him, they never had the time, not when she was running the entirety of Hell and he was running around to find something that would help properly dispose of God for good. 

Besides, she hardly thought it would matter. What would she say exactly? Should she poke fun at him for being so hung up on her death despite seeing her sitting on Hell's throne afterward? 

She could tell him the truth. She could tell him that she took the throne as a penance, that she took it because it was an opportunity for her to provide aid against God. She was still a friend, their Rowena, Queen of Hell or no. 

Rowena could tell Sam that absolution was what she truly wanted. She could tell him that it was he who changed her, made her want to be better. 

She could tell him that she loved him. 

No. She couldn't tell him that, not when he was quite taken already with someone who deserved him better than her, someone _good_ for him and could stay with him. 

It was fitting, Rowena supposed, that the punishment Death subjected her was locking Sam's memories of her. It wasn't only him; everyone was to forget that there was once Rowena MacLeod, a witch who found her home in two hunters, a fallen angel, and a nephilim. 

Rowena remained the ruler of Hell, with half of her life force sacrificed for the person she held dear the most who couldn't even remember a trace of her. 

And they said Death wasn't cruel. 

Magic would always be paid by sacrifice, but Rowena couldn't find it in herself to regret it one bit. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Which was why when in one uneventful day in Hell Sam Winchester barged in with all his 6-foot flannel glory, Rowena stood from her throne, stupefied. 

He walked up to her, disregarding the demons that surrounded them, and with a face clouded with anger in every step of the way. 

Oh. It wasn't just fury there; there were also unnameable emotions that danced on his features, she realized upon closer inspection. 

The silence of the court was deafening, more so when he spoke, almost brokenly, "Why didn't you say anything?"

The shame was unmistakable, try as she might hide it from her subjects. 

"No direct contact, I'm afraid. It was what Billie and I agreed on," she replied, her voice sounding foreign in her own ears. 

"So I was just supposed to live my life—the life you've given me—without knowing what happened? I continue on without knowing how I miraculously survived, is that it?" 

Rowena refused to glance away under his demanding gaze. "They do say there is bliss in ignorance."

" _No_ , goddamnit! Not when that means having a gaping hole in you that is looking for something that you and everyone else don't even remember in the first place!" 

Rowena stood up when the weight of her guilt became unbearable. She approached him with deliberating steps. "Was it so bad then, to forget wee old me? It was preferable that way, for you and for me." She wanted to touch his face again though hesitated. "I can't have you thinking that you're indebted to me, and, knowing you, it'll be the case when you find out. I can't get in the way of your happiness, Sam."

She was taken aback when Sam had beaten her to it, reaching out with both his hands to cradle her face instead and crashed her mouth to his. 

_Oh._

For all its intent, it was a tender kiss that Sam seemed to have put his everything on. Rowena could only hold on to him, pour what she has and let Sam know. 

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe you’re a part of that?” Sam asked when they broke free, thumbing her cheeks. He was seemingly unable to pry his hands away from her. 

Rowena, full as heart might be, decided to ask hoarsely, "Do you mean that?"

She had to know. She was never anyone's first choice and yet Sam was choosing her right now. 

"Of course I do," Sam replied, planting his lips on her forehead. 

Rowena didn't need any other words. 

**Author's Note:**

>  _I feel it in the earth, I feel it in the wind._  
> 
> 
> _I feel it in my soul that I freely give. To this man, part the half of my being._
> 
> _Bind me to him and give him my life instead._
> 
> (The Latin translation is of course courtesy of Google Translate)


End file.
